Best Fop Poems
Joy! Joy! of all the honors I have earned
In a lifetime of trysts, mazes, and twists
None have I so much relished, indeed,
As topping one of Poetry Soup’s lists!
I only wish they would send a certificate
I feel like my soul would be duly kissed,
My head swells with pride, such renown,
If I wrote music, I’d feel like Franz Lizst!
I know some are eat up with jealousy --
Somewhere down there in the foggy mist,
But there is always room at the top
And someday, surely, you’ll make a list.
I hope you have figured out, by now, I jest.
I would write poetry if I never saw my name
Writing, my tongue firmly planted in cheek,
I would be a fop to write poetry for fame!
written December 23, 2021
[inspired by a recent poem
by a Poetry Soup poet!]
#33 on the Month's Best Poems List
January, 2022
The devil’s dry fields
dirt farm, not much yields
damn sun
one forlorn tree shields
Texas battlefields
the one
recline that appeals
low water reveals
not done
no reprieve day’s sun
no wind, land barren
poor crop
windmill slow to run
water still and dun
well drop
worn clothes overdone
unbleached and homespun
no fop
dry, dingy sweatshop
broken fence post prop
damn sun
blind heat nonstop
a silent eavesdrop
poor crop
bleeding fingers mop
hellish spinning top
Grandma
My lawyer's a liar
my doctor's a quack
As for my dentist
I'll never go back
My accountant's a fop
my maid is a crook
I'll never replace the
jewelry she took
My lawn guy is lame
and the mailman's a dame
My favorite restaurant just closed
no more fries with tree toads
It's hard to get help these days
You just can't trust folks
with rings in their nose
when they're not snortin' coke
I guess I've no choice
I'll do things all by myself
'Cos when my wife heard my plan
she eloped with our elf
Let there be no shame in a struggle to the top
For everyone who is achieving is not being a fop,
But expending the effort to be the best they can
It means climbing further upward again and again.
Do not be jealous of those at the top of the list
For they had goals you may’ve, heretofore, missed,
Consider them excellent examples of fortitude
And do not upon their fine successes intrude.
Congratulate and encourage those on the ladder
Above or below you, it really doesn’t matter,
Everyone reaches the summit at his or her own pace
What’s really important is doing so with verve and grace.
Written December 1, 2021
I Cooked the Book that Would Not Tap
A Doomsday, a nightmare gone wrong,
My hand shot with pain and didn’t stop,
Bandages hid the wound I wove for kong,
The silence echoed round the wheel fop.
I screamed with tears which said the news,
When sirenes had been screened for writ,
Draughts unveiled the blood for reviews,
That cared enough to dare read the fit.
Arching, the doctor stood vacant and here,
Physicalism bent metaphor until she looped,
Analogy personified emphatic nature’s fear,
When realism criticised cubisms’ truly trooped.
Critical realism still made no ontological sense,
My metaphysical slippers knew no god,
Subjectivism objected to empirical arms tense,
When constructivism departed from my odd.
I could not write to epistemology for methodology,
‘Cos clearly my relativity had got it substantive.
Moral absolutism saw humankind as pedagogy,
Still, not yet a guess, a list, a bond, gift, a plaintiff.
Rationalism was not a natural phenomenon, fair,
No predicates set my entities alight to condition,
The proposition adjunct to abstract and layer,
I imagined the mathematics that truly supposition.
This OR that, tip AND rat, not for me or negation
FOR ALL humanities THERE EXISTS a surreal,
Mere, underneath my formula, nude propagation,
Creating the sum of me that axiomed regal’s legal.
Logic. Logic, just pure blooded logic. Critical,
Crucial. Conscience, not questioning the cost, fact,
Never asking for terms or claim, the carer brutal,
The dame. The lame as mentioning the act.
Structural.
Rhoda Monihan
There was an elderly fellow from Dopp
whose steady gas-passing he couldn't stop.
The odor was terrible
totally unbearable
so alone he lived as a popping fop.
Blazing hot
Blistering my skin
Can’t tell you where I’m going
I can only tell you where I’ve been.
I’ve been in green meadows
On a cool crisp morn
In a hospital near my wife
When our first child was born.
I’ve been to the bar with friends
To get drunk and maybe get in a fight
That’s just normal behavior
For a small town Saturday night!
I’ve been in love once or twice
Before I grew up
My favorite birthday present ever
Was a new little pup.
I’ve been to a high school dance
With my clumsy two left feet
And at that very dance
Is where my wife and I did meet.
I’ve been out on the lake
Fishing with my dad
And at that time in my life
Never appreciating all that we had.
I’ve been to boot camp
With all of the other new guys
I wonder where they are?
Or did they tell me a bunch of lies?
I’ve got to keep going
I need to fill my canteen
There’s nothing but sand everywhere
Sand and sun are all I’ve seen.
I’m so parched…I can barely move
Shap…feet are…hum fall
My arm…pur soi nop
Fop in siz…hot metal.
Pom bo…a pistol…lam bi
Tum…too weak to…
Without values life may whop
And you cannot even yawp
As the destiny may strop
A valueless person nonstop.
If your values from life lop
It is zilch and make you fop –
Fop – a man with concern atop
For dress than character prop.
Without values we may drop;
Cannot stand or walk; sit or hop.
So respect values that clearly mop
All bad, illicit or forbidden crop.
Dearest D.G.,
it appears to me...
you have a slight quandary!
Let me clarify your confusion,
you frivolous fop...
your relationship is a flop.
Lose his number,
as it seems to be...
you were a dirty secret.
His "sister" likely a wife,
don't wreck her life...
just walk away.
His phone neither broken,
nor is it hid...
you naive kid.
He is not shy,
simply attempting to be shy...
"remodeling" a tricky lie.
His homeT you won't see,
gather what remains of your dignity...
flee this deception.
Focus upon your work,
be a brilliant mother...
eventually you'll find another.
Take these words of wisdom,
if his wife clues in...
you will lose, she will win.
Best of luck,
you plucky duck...
Frankly yours, Agony Aunt
He was a dandy, a coxcomb, a fop.
Fashionable without one inch of slop.
But when undressed
was not caressed
Genital area horrible mop
Why is it such a big deal to be an avaricious & pernicious alligator and just steal from every creator use all our data and turn even the meek & mild into a wild hater...
"How do we stop the lavatorial plop plop of AI slop
Cull the new crop an arch oligarch march to the top
No behavioural fop to an algorithm making you strop
Don’t be a sop to a pack who hijack a stack on the hop
Pander to your dander by knowing how you do shop
When you gander…. propaganda & slander they drop
This laboratory of hateful oratory is what we all cop
Cohorts sport.. escorts all sorts.. come on chop chop
All about the economy give woke folks a lobotomy op
Forgotten besotten rotten dot com bubble did pop
Impropriety no jobs swap entirety of society will flop
Social media greedier needier seedier stronger gallop
So how do we stay dry of sh*t from on high this AI slop
To stop bottom feeder sly lie then no longer be the mop"
Now he’s going for a treatment
That might swallow much liniment
And lick up copious supplement ;
About this, no long argument …
Watching was I Sir Cecil hop,
Not once, not twice, in real pain stop,
His discharging sweat sadly mop
And his injured feet sometimes drop;
All these in the next street flop,
A watcher to pity The Fop
And arrange A Medic on Top…
And there was to be one stop
To curiously look at some crop
Before in the rain a dared bop,
As though briefly rung Jackson’s Pop…
Cecil to Patients The Cynic
I saw just head for a clinic.
With waning moon below the Horizon
the darkness fell upon the slumbered town.
An even darker phantom fell upon
the people. (Death) had descended and found
its quarry. Walking silently among
their homes until he reached a wealthy man
asleep in bed. He touched his eyes, erelong.
At once, they opened wide. "Oh, bogeyman
begone! Oh horrible dream, thou leave me!
You dreadful ghost! Who are you? I'm lord here!
I'll beckon servants. They will hear my plea."
Be silent fop! Your time has come. Give ear:
Your hedonistic life has caused much pain.
I send you where the conqueror worm reigns.
Could you please just take a bit off the top?
I stare at this cardinal, hoping he’ll stop.
But surely there is a bird barber shop.
Yes, but they never give me a good chop.
Afraid I would be an enormous flop,
Oh, come on! He says with a little hop.
I will sweep your kitchen and even mop.
Decide to give me a teensy buzz crop.
Thank you so much says the cardinal with slop
I’ll sing your praises to firebird and cop.
Then with a giant cute wiggle and bebop,
He flew straight into the air with a pop.
So all of that talk about wanting to mop
Was a conniving way to get me to stop
Pick up the scissors and give him a crop.
He is a cad, a scoundrel, a fop!
So, why didn’t you stop
After seeing a red-eyed cop
You know could ask you to hurriedly drop
And have you childishly begin to hop
Or ludicrously bop
To still hard blows wire to your face while on top
And angrier, like gilled corn, pop!
A prelude to making you some grimy floor mop
Or in a nearby farm start planting a crop,
Retaining this over coat that does make you a fop?